A Kiss Before Dying
by Mediancat
Summary: A season 6 AU, breaking off towards the end of the episode Seeing Red. Warren's errant shot still goes through the window . . . but kills someone else.
1. Chapter 1

This is an unfinished fic of mine -- but if I get enough interest, I will finish it. It breaks off during the 6th-season episode"Seeing Red." Where and how, I'd prefer to let you find out for yourself.

Disclainer: Joss owns all.

X X X X X

As Tara pulled away from Willow, she said, "Xander!"

Willow gave a wry grin and said, "Okay, not quite the response I was fishing for."

Nodding towards the window, Tara said, "No. He's here." They both went over and saw Xander walking up behind Buffy in the backyard.

Willow asked, "Think they're making up?"

"I hope so. That's the best part." Then she gave an impish grin. "Think we should listen in?"

Tara looked at her. "Willow! I'm ashamed of you."

Immediately, Willow shrank from the force of Tara's words. _Damn_, Tara thought. _I have to remember how fragile she still is._ Tara shook her head and said, "No, sweetie. I meant it as a joke."

"Oh," Willow said. "Does this mean --?"

Tara laughed. "You are incorrigible."

Willow wiggled her eyebrows. "Then by all means come over here and incorrige me." Impulsively, Tara stepped forward and swept Willow up in a passionate kiss. When she released her, she and Willow had switched positions. "Whoo," Willow said. "I always said you had me going around in circles, but --" she grinned.

Tara grinned back. In the distance, a truck backfired. _No, wait, that's --_

The window shattered and blood spattered all over the front of Tara's shirt. Willow said, "this -- is -- ridicul--," and fell to the floor. Blood was beginning to stain her blouse.

_Oh, no. No. Please, Goddess, no. Don't take her -- the world needs her. I need her. _ She knelt down, put her hands on Willow and began to pray to all the gods and goddesses she could think of. _Please save Willow. Please. I beg of you, do this for me._

Her prayers, as with so many, went unanswered.

She pulled her hands away as though she had just touched a hot stove.

_I just felt her die. I just felt Willow die._

_And there's no way to fix it. _

Tara felt the tears begin to well up, and forced them back down. She needed to find out what had happened. Gently, she laid Willow on the floor and went downstairs --

And almost crashed into Xander. "Tara! Get Willow. Buffy's been shot."

"Oh, god. Oh, god. What --"

"Warren shot her. I've got to call 911 now." _So Buffy was still breathing. Thank the goddess for small miracles_.

Xander picked up the phone and made the call, then hung up and yelled out, "Will! Will! Get down here! Warren just shot Buffy!"

"Wait. W-Warren did this?" _Warren? That, that incompetent -- he killed her? Killed the woman I love, and maybe Buffy too? I'll -- I'll --_

She took a deep breath. _I'll make sure he gets what's coming to him if it takes the rest of my life. But I will _not_ kill him. No matter how much I want to._

Distractedly, Xander said, "Yeah. He came in while Buffy and I were talking and told us that we wouldn't get away with it and fired. WILLOW!"

"Xander --" Tara said. "One of the shots, it, it went wild, and --"

Xander caught her meaning right away. His face ashen, he raced upstairs into Willow's room. "No!" he yelled.

Tara ran up after him. As he began to cry, she hugged him.

Then he stopped crying. When he pulled away, Tara saw a cold look on his face. "I'm going to find Warren and pull his intestines out through his ears."

_That may be what's coming to him. But not from Xander. _"Not yet. We have more important things to do."

Xander nodded his head. "Right. Get Buffy to the hospital, tell Anya and Dawn. _Then_ we kill Warren."

And for some reason, _that_ set Tara to crying. "No," she said. "You can't do this."

"Do what?"

"You can't make me be the strong one. I, I can't cry or deal with it if I'm worried that you're going to run off half-cocked after Warren. I have to be strong if you do that. So promise me. Promise me that you won't do anything stupid. Promise me you'll let me cry." She looked up at him. "Promise me."

Xander closed his eyes. "I will." When he opened them again, he hugged Tara.

"I felt her die," she said as she heard the sirens in the background. "I felt her die . . ."

Part 2

She couldn't hide in the embrace forever. As the sirens got closer, she pulled free and said, "You, you stay for the ambulance. Tell, tell them about Willow. I'll go tell Anya and Dawn."

They walked downstairs. Xander reached into his pocket and handed her his car keys. Shaking her head, Tara said, "No. I, I don't trust myself to drive right now. And the walk might do me some good." _I'm likely to wrap myself around a telephone pole either way. At least if I'm walking I'll probably survive the experience._

"Okay," he said. "I'll see you when you get there."

Tara took off down the street. _Now all I need to do is figure out what to say. Anya, I can be blunt with. But Dawnie. How am I going to tell Dawnie that Willow's dead and Buffy could be dying?_

By the time she got to The Magic Box, she hadn't come up with any easy answers. _That's because there aren't any._

She opened the front door and walked in.

Anya walked out from behind the counter. "Tara," she said. "Something horrible has happened, I know. What?"

"How did you know?"

"It was a vengeance. I'm in tune with that sort of thing. What happened?"

"In tune? Are you a --" Anya nodded. "Never mind. That's not important right now. It was Warren. He shot Willow. And, and Buffy."

"What!" Anya fairly yelled.

"And -- and --" she closed her eyes. "Willow's dead."

"I assume you're going to get Warren for this," Anya said.

"If I tell you I plan to, will you do me a favor?"

She pulled out a necklace. "Name it. Better yet, wish it."

_Oops. I'd better say this carefully. _"Can I wish for Willow not to have been shot?"

Anya shook her head. "That's not vengeance. I can only grant vengeance-related wishes. But if you want Warren skinned alive --"

_No. _"No." Before Anya could sputter out a response, Tara said, "I want him for myself."_ Which isn't a lie. Part of me wants that, that bastard dead for what he's done to the woman I love. But I have to keep that part of me in check. God knows what would happen if I let it loose._

"I understand," Anya said. "So, what do you want me to do?"

"Buffy's at the hospital. Just go there -- Xander's there by himself right now."

Anya nodded. "And of course, we'll call Giles."

_I, I should have thought of that myself. _"Of course. He's going to want to be here for -- for --" And she began to cry again.

Anya was still a millennium out of practice at being compassionate, but this much she'd learned. She came over to Tara and hugged her, albeit a bit awkwardly.

When Anya let her go, Tara said, "Okay. I have to go tell Dawn."

"Go. I'll call Giles and head over."

Tara left.

X X X X X

In the demon bar, Warren laughed. "In her own back yard. Don't underestimate science, my friends. Good old fashioned metal meets propulsion." Everyone else in the bar began to laugh with him.

The bartender said, "Oh, man, this is going to be good."

Triumphantly, Warren said, "The best! The town is ours!"

"Ours? Maybe," a nearby vampire said. "You're screwed." Then he and all the other patrons laughed harder.

"This isn't the evil laugh of victory, is it?" Warren asks.

The vampire snorted. "More like the evil laugh of you're-a-dead-man."

"Okay . . . W hat's the joke?"

"It was just on the news," the bartender said,. "Two girls were shot. One in her backyard, one in an upstairs bedroom. The one in the backyard survived. She's in the hospital. And Slayers heal fast. Real fast."

"And," the vampire said, "Once she finds out you killed her friend, I estimate your life expectancy at about five minutes. I was going to eat you myself during the commercial, but I think it'd be more fun to let her gut you, instead. You might want to get a head start, because she's going to be coming after you bigtime."

Warren thought fast. He hadn't factored in somebody else dying. "Unless," he said, "We take this golden opportunity to hit them first."

The vampire kept laughing. "What are you talking about?"

"Think about it," Warren said. "The Slayer's down and one of her friends is dead. She and they'll never be as vulnerable as they are right now." He paused. "So who's with me?"

He didn't get the rousing cheer he'd hoped for, but he didn't get summarily executed either. "I ain't that dumb," the vampire said. "Neither are most of the demons in here."

The bartender was thinking. "Might not be a bad idea, though." The vampire looked at him as though he was crazy. "Think about it." Then he bent forward and whispered to the vampire.

After a second, the vampire barked out a laugh and said, "Good point." Then, as the bartender went around the bar talking to some of the demons and vampires, the vampire looked at Warren. "Okay, you've got your force."

Warren thought of something. "Keep 'em on ice for a few. There's someone else I need to look up."

The vampire nodded, and Warren left.

Then the bartender and vampire exchanged a glance, and laughed again. "You think he knows we're sticking him with the dummies?"

"Not a clue," the bartender said. "So either they manage to kill the Slayer, or the Slayer rises out of her bed and kills them. Win-win, I say."

Part 3

Telling Dawn had been, as Tara had expected, harder, though at least it hadn't been a problem getting in to see her. Tara and Willow were on the list of people officially allowed to pull Dawn out (a holdover from the days of the Buffybot).

Dawn reacted exactly like Tara had thought; utter and complete disbelief. Just like she'd done when her mom had died. _Oh, Dawnie, I understand why you don't want to think the worst. But you have to. _Then she realized how patronizing she sounded; she'd always been able to buck up and take death stoically, even when her mom had died, but she knew everyone reacted differently.

_I have to be the strong one again. At least until I get her to the hospital. Maybe then I can pass this on to Anya or Xander._

Being sick of walking, Tara hailed a cab and she and Dawn rode to Sunnydale General in utter silence. Dawn didn't want to say anything, and Tara couldn't think of anything to say.

Which left her ample time to reflect.

_I just got you back again. Just managed to get you back into my life the way we were meant to be. I know I'll go on without you; I have to. But I have no idea how that's going to happen. You -- you were so wonderful. So beautiful and smart and, and loving. And so strong -- but so, so fragile. The way you reacted to that joke I made. You were worth so much, Willow -- You were so strong just being who you were, and you never knew it. You always thought you had to be doing something to be valuable, whether it was magic or computing or science._

_I was so looking forward to showing you otherwise. To showing you the value you had in just being you.._

_To having you love me again. And being able to love you in return. Without reservation. Without hesitancy._

_At least -- _

_At least the last thing I did was kiss you. At least you knew, when you died, that I loved you._

_I hope that brings you some peace, as it does to me._

_And wherever you are, Willow Rosenberg -- be it Heaven or Hell or somewhere else entirely -- we will be together again. Heaven would not be heaven if you weren't there. And Hell would not be Hell if you were._

They rode on.

X X X X X

The guy coming through the doorway had to be Rack, Warren guessed. "Ah," he said. "I thought I had sent everyone home. No matter; I'm not seeing anyone today." The man grimaced. "Or for the foreseeable future, around here."

Warren said, "I come bearing dead presidents. Does that at least earn me time enough to talk?"

Rack shrugged and took the money, saying, "Yes, but make haste, if you would." As he followed Rack through the door into the inner chamber, Rack said, "How did you find me? I sense no magic in you."

"I paid for the information. Twenty bucks."

"Most of my customers would have told you for five," Rack said. "You were overcharged."

"Yeah, I didn't have time for a lot of quibbling. Look, I'm in a bit of a situation here. I tried to do us all a favor and eliminate the Slayer, but it didn't take. The first time."

Eyebrows raised, Rack said, "Killing a Slayer. Big business for a kid."

"I'm not a kid."

Warren could tell Rack wasn't impressed. "Okay."

"I have my own guys -- the Trio. You heard of us?"

"Right. A band or something?"

Damn. This was not shaping up to be a good day for his ego. First he doesn't kill the Slayer, then the vampires laugh at him, and now this guy? "You haven't heard of any of the things we've done? The freeze ray? My robots?"

"Sorry, no," Rack said. "So why aren't your guys helping you?"

"I thought this was a cash for service gig, not an interview process. I need help. I have to go take out the Slayer before she gets better and takes me out."

Rack nods. "So it's you . . . "

"So it's me, what?"

"You're the reason I'm packing up and leaving," Rack said. "What you've done -- it's got the potential to rip this town apart."

"That's why I'm going after the Slayer now," Warren explained. "That's why I need your help."

"It's not the Slayer you're going to need to worry about. It's everybody else. And once they get done with you, they're going to come after anyone who helped you. And these aren't people I can deal with. These aren't people I can control. They're not like Willow, or that Madison girl."

"So you're saying I can't win."

"I'm saying if you do, you're going to do it without my help." He tossed the money back at Warren. "My advice to you is to run."

"Yeah, thanks for all the help, Nostradamus," Warren said as he stormed out.

Behind him, Rack said, "I hear Cleveland's nice this time of year . . . "


	2. Chapter 2

When Tara and Dawn got to the hospital, Xander was on a pay phone. Anya was pacing next to him. A bit down the hall, Buffy was being worked on.

Dawn looked around as though waiting for someone to tell her that this was all a sick practical joke. _Unfortunately, sweetie, Willow and Buffy aren't going to pop out from behind a curtain. _

"How, how's Buffy?" Tara asked.

"Not good," Anya said. "Not dead, but not good. The bullet's lodged deep inside her. She's got a one in four chance."

Noticing Dawn's stunned look, Tara said, "But her healing factor should knock that percentage up a bit. So she's got good odds."

Anya shook her head. "I already factored that in. The doctors said one in ten."

Making a little strangled noise, Dawn half-collapsed into the nearest chair and began to sob.

Xander, meanwhile, was saying into the phone, "No, Cordy, you don't need to come down here. I think we can handle it --"

Anya grabbed the phone. "Like hell we can. Cordelia? Don't listen to him. We need help, and we need it now." After a second, she hung up. "They're coming."

"Good," Tara said. "This is good."

"Who's coming?" Xander asked.

"Angel and Cordelia," Anya said. "Also Giles. But it's going to take him a while."

"Angel, too," Xander said, "What with the daylight and all." After a second. "Does anyone know where Oz is?"

Dawn said, "Willow did."

"Someone needs to let him know."

"When we get home," Tara said, "I'll look up the contact information."

Xander said, "I wish whoever was coming would get here quickly."

_I wonder if that would work._ "Anya," Tara said, "I have a wish. A, a vengeance-related wish." Xander spun to look at Anya, the obvious question unsaid.

"Ooooh," Anya said. "Do you want me to disembowel Warren?"

"I've got that one covered," Dawn said bleakly.

"No. I wish that everyone who was coming was already here."

Anya said, "Yes. Yes, that's sufficiently vengeance-y. Done."

And Mr. Giles and two people Tara had never met popped in right in front of them. _No Oz. I guess since he wasn't "coming," Anya didn't or couldn't include him in the scope of the wish._

"Whoa," the dark-haired man said. "I said we'd get down here as fast as we could, but this --"

"I suspect someone made a wish, Angel, " Mr. Giles said.

"Someone did," Tara said, "Me."

"And I granted it," Anya said.

"That can be sorted out later," Mr. Giles said. "Oh, god, Tara --" He came over to hug her, then Dawn, who ran up to him as soon as he pulled clear.

Angel and the dark-haired woman, presumably Cordelia, had gone over to press their faces against the ER window. "Who did this?" Angel said furiously, clenching his fists.

"A lowlife punk named Warren," Xander said.

"I'll kill him."

"Stand in line," Mr. Giles said. "If Buffy dies, I'll --" _No. I will not let any of them kill him. That would be too hard on them. And too easy on him._

"So what?" Dawn said. "Willow's death isn't enough for you?"

"Dawnie, no," Tara said. "That's not what he meant."

"So, why are we all just standing around here?" Cordelia asked. "Why aren't we finding this Warren and pounding the hell out of him?"

Xander said, "Hear, hear."

"I'm in agreement with Xander," Angel said. "And never remind me that I just said that."

"Because our top priority right now should be Buffy," Mr. Giles said.

"Yeah, 'cause this standing around -- big help," Cordelia said.

"No!" Tara practically shouted. "No. Warren -- Warren killed the woman I love. The woman who was the center of my existence. And, and I won't have any of you sinking to his level and killing a human being. Willow wouldn't want you to do that and Buffy certainly wouldn't."

"If I promise not to kill him," Angel said, "Do you mind if I go track him down, beat him up and bring him back here?"

"No, but, but the sun might," Tara said.

"It's been a while since I made my way through Sunnydale's sewer system," Angel said, "But I think I still know my way around."

"Anyway," Mr. Giles said, "How will we know where Warren is? Or what he looks like?" After a second. "And is this the same person who built that Buffy robot for Spike?"

"Yes," Dawn said, "It is."

Cordelia said, "I think I speak for Angel and myself when I say, never give us the details."

"As, as for knowing what he looks like, I can, can handle that," Tara said, and spoke a word of power. Instantly Cordelia, Angel and Giles blinked.

Angel spoke first. "Hard to believe."

"The gun," Xander said bleakly. "It's a great equalizer."

Tara said, "And, as far as knowing where he is goes -- Anya?

"Yes?"

"I have another vengeance-related wish. And I'll have another one once we've found Warren."

"Good. I can do that. I think."

"I wish that we would know where Warren is at all times, no matter where he goes."

Anya said, "That could be used to track him down and inflict a painful vengeance upon him. Done."

_It was like a map of Sunnydale had been overlaid on my consciousness. If I concentrated, I could see where he was. Right now, he was walking away from an alley somewhere, not far from a movie theater. I couldn't see him as a person; but I could home in on him wherever he was, because I could tell where I was on the map, too. I'm guessing it was the same way for everyone._

Angel said, "I can work with that. Who's with me?"

Cordelia pulled out a sword and said, "I am."

"You know how to use that thing, Cordy?" Xander asked.

"Would you like me to demonstrate?"

"Whoa, whoa," Xander said. "I was being impressed, not skeptical. But play it Tara's way. Slice him, dice him, julienne him, but leave him alive."

"For now," Angel said.

"I think I'd best stay here," Mr. Giles said. Xander and Dawn echoed the sentiment, and Tara wasn't going anywhere as long as there was a chance Buffy might need magical help to survive. _I'm not a healer. But I will do what I can._

Anya said, "I'm going, too." Everyone looked at her. "Come on, people! It's vengeance. I do vengeance!"

"Right," Angel said. "Let's go." And he, Cordelia and Anya left the area.

Xander had gone back to looking through the ER window. "Guys," he said.

They all went over to look.

The heart rate monitor was a flat line.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns all of these characters. I'm not Joss Whedon.

X X X X X

Tara said, "Mr. Giles, Xander, give me your hands. Dawnie, don't touch us."

Mr. Giles took her left hand, Xander her right.

She began chanting in Latin. Mr. Giles, once he realized what she was doing, added his voice to her own. He wasn't a witch, but every voice helped. Tara could only hope that Xander wouldn't join in -- now was not the time for a humorous mispronunciation.

Fortunately, Xander didn't try.

What Tara was doing was dangerous -- to her, and somewhat less so to Mr. Giles and Xander. But it was the only way she could think of to help keep Buffy alive. _I know they'd be willing to do this if I took the time to explain. But I don't have that. And while Dawnie would volunteer too I don't want to drag her into it. Buffy and Willow would never forgive me if I did._

The heart-rate monitor resumed beeping -- Buffy's heart rate was now as strong as it could be under the circumstances. But they weren't done yet; if they stopped chanting, Buffy's heart would stop. Tara needed to keep this going until she was out of danger.

They kept chanting.

X X X X X

Angel said, "If I concentrate I seem to be able to turn this power of location on and off."

"Yes," Anya said. "I did it that way on purpose. No need seeing where he is once he's been brutally disembowelled. He'll kind of be stuck in the same location for the rest of eternity. Or many different locations, depending on the scavenger activity."

"Anyway," Angel said, "I'm thinking maybe only one of us needs to actually be paying attention."

"I'll do it," Cordelia said.

"Good. So, we're coming up on an intersection. Which way do we go?"

"Straight ahead."

"You're not completely human," Anya told Cordelia.

"Neither are you."

"I was just curious. Xander always described you as the only normal person he'd ever dated."

"Xander described me as normal?" Cordelia asked.

"Well, he did say it was a relative term."

"Now that's the Xander I know," Cordelia said.

"Another intersection coming up," Angel said.

Concentrating, Cordelia said, "Right. And he's moving."

"In what direction?"

"Roughly northwest."

"So," Anya asked, "What happened to make you not completely human?"

"Is this really the time for casual conversation?" Angel asked.

"I'm not asking casually," Anya said. "I loved Willow and I love Buffy and I have a hard time grasping what this death thing is and what it means to be mortal. So right now to avoid having a nervous breakdown I'm asking questions. Lots of questions. Because if I ask questions then for just a second I stop thinking that I'll never be able to talk to Willow again or watch her research or hear her babble in that annoying way that seems to charm everyone else. If I ask questions then maybe Buffy will be okay and making wisecracks about killing vampires again. Do you understand me?"

"Actually, amazingly, yes," Cordelia said. "I get visions from a group of beings called The Powers That Be. A while back it was discovered that the visions were slowly killing me . . . "

X X X X X

Warren was royally pissed at Rack, but there wasn't much he could do. The warlock could have caused him major damage if he'd been so inclined; instead, he was content to clear out of the neighborhood.

But just because his best chance for magical help had turned coward didn't mean he was completely screwed. He considered contacting that Amy Madison woman who'd "treated" Willow to some kind of magical effect back in January, but wasn't entirely sure where her loyalties lay. The Magic Box was probably unguarded, but the two magic experts of the bunch were currently locked in jail. Warren was sure the place had items of great power, but didn't want to risk mistaking a hand of glory for a mummy hand.

Maybe he didn't have as many options as he thought. Right now, what he had was a pistol and once lip of ammunition.

He wandered by the last lair the Trio had had before that damn Slayer had stolen his superpowers and thwarted his armored car robbery, but the police had apparently already been by; the place was covered in crime scene tape.

He ignored it and went inside, but everything obvious of value had already been taken. Had they found the secret panel?

No.

Unfortunately, the only thing left behind the secret panel was a robot Warren had had made of himself. It wasn't programmed for combat -- he'd wanted it to be realistic, but he might be able to get some use out of it. And he found another clip of ammunition for his pistol.

So he'd be leading from the rear while his robot led from the front. He could deal with that.

One more go-over of the place netted him nothing useful.

He ordered the robot to follow him and he headed back for the demon bar.

His army was waiting.

X X X X X

Fifteen minutes later they were still chanting.

Dawn had come up and tried to grab Xander's hand, but at a headshake from Tara he shook it free. Giles did the same. _I'm so sorry, sweetie. I know you want to help. But I can't let you._

Inside the surgery room, the doctors were trying to remove the bullet from Buffy's chest.

_And, Goddess, I'm running out of energy. I was never as powerful as Willow was. Please, Goddess, give me the ability to do this. Let me save Buffy where I couldn't save Willow._

Where Tara got the strength, she didn't know. But it came from somewhere.

Then she saw them take the bullet out and gestured for Xander to let her hand go.

He did so and staggered backwards.

Buffy's heart rate remained strong.

She gestured for Mr. Giles to do the same thing. He stopped chanting and released her hand.

Closing her eyes, Tara uttered one more silent prayer.

Then she stopped chanting.

Buffy's heart continued to beat.

Tara had done it.

_Thank you, Goddess._

"That was a terrible risk you took, Tara," Mr. Giles said.

"I had, had to take it," she said. "And, and I'm sorry I dragged you into it." Her voice was hoarse.

"Don't concern yourself there," Mr. Giles said.

Xander asked, "What risk?"

Mr. Giles said, "The spell Tara cast and we helped in preserved Buffy's life -- but at a cost to our own. We essentially lent Buffy some of our life essence to assure her survival."

"Mostly mine," Tara said.

"She's alive," Xander said. "That's the important thing. But -- in practical terms --"

"It means I borrowed from our lifespans," Tara said. "We, we will now all die a bit sooner than we would have otherwise. A few weeks, maybe a month."

After a second he said, "It was worth it."

Mr. Giles added, "Yes. Now, with any luck, her Slayer healing factor should kick in. Let us just pray there are no emergencies until it does . . ."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: While that _would_ be an interesting wish, Jason Barnett, that's not the story I'm telling at the moment. Unitarian Jihadist: I wasn't entirely sure either. But it works this way. And buffyextreme: That's too good for him.

Revised because of some accidental narrative shift

Reminder: The italicized sections are Tara's thoughts.

Disclaimer: Ave Joss.

X X X X X

Warren got back to the demon bar sometime around 5:30 -- daylight would be ending soon enough. He knew the Slayer was still in the hospital; a quick phone call pretending to be a concerned relative had

The bartender did a double take at the robot duplicate following him. "This is what you got to help? A robot double?"

Warren shot him an odd look, and the bartender said, "One, I'm a fan of silver-age Superman comics. Two," he touched his nose, "I can smell him. He looks human enough but he isn't."

"Most of my sources dried up," Warren said irritably. "I got this and I got this," he said, holding out the pistol.

"Isn't that what got you in this mess in the first place?" the bartender said.

"You work with what you have to," Warren said. Then, looking around, "So: My army?"

The bartender snorted. "Assembled in the back room. But let me tell you this." He leaned in closer and said, menacingly, "You'd better not come back unsuccessful. If you come back and they don't --"

"If they don't come back," Warren said, "I'll probably be dead."

"I know people," the bartender hissed. "That might not stop me."

Warren gulped and went back to inspect the troops.

X X X X X

It took them a while -- sewers being notoriously short on directional signs (though in Sunnydale, it certainly would have made sense). As they got closer, Warren stopped.

"Okay, he's not moving right now," Cordelia said.

"That's good," came Angel's reply.

"He's a couple of miles away in . . ." she pointed to the wall -- "That general direction." Then she turned to Anya, "Anya, when you wished that we could all know where Warren is, did you include yourself? Because he's holed up someplace I'm not familiar with."

Anya said, "Of course," and visualized the map. "Ah. Yes. That's Red's. It's the town's demon bar."

"What happened to Willy and the Alibi?" Angel asked.

"A couple of years back Willy decided to get into something less dangerous and with fewer chances of people beating him up."

"What'd he go into?"

"Professional wrestling."

Angel looked at Anya to see if she was making a joke, then decided she probably didn't know how.

"If it's a demon bar, there has to be a way to get there underground," Cordelia said. "Next right."

"I'm sure there is," Anya said. "I've just never needed it. Fully human form here. No problems with daylight."

"Do you know anything about the clientele?"

"They're not in my social circle," Anya said. "Apart from Clem. But the worldbeaters tend not to go there. Your basic demonic thugs and muscle, maybe some low-level magic ability, nothing big."

"Still, if it's as packed as these places usually are," Angel said, "I'm thinking maybe a frontal assault's not such a good idea."

"Well, we're all demons here, right?" Cordelia said.

"Yes . . ."

"Then I have an idea."

X X X X X

Mr. Giles was dealing with some more paperwork, while Xander was on a snack run of some sort. _Not like I'm hungry. But it seems to give him something to do._

That left Tara dealing with Dawn.

"So why couldn't I be part of the spell?" Dawn asked in her bitterest voice. "Was I not good enough?"

"Dawnie, no," Tara said. "The kind of spell it was -- I couldn't involve you without explaining it to you. It wouldn't have been right." _And besides, you're still the Key, sweetie. I have no idea if that's ever going to have any repercussions beyond that of your blood being able to open dimensional gateways. But now certainly wasn't the time to find out._

_But if I use _that_ explanation right now, it'll make you feel worse._

"She gave her life for me," Dawn said, voice almost cracking. "I would have done the same for her." After a second. "Or for Willow."

"I know you would. But she wouldn't want you to." _Neither she._

Dawn said, "I know that. But I want to do something. Anya's granting wishes, you're making them, Angel and Cordelia are out there tracking down Warren. Even Giles is doing more than I have."

"You're doing a lot just by being here."

"I don't feel like it."

_Okay, enough was enough. _"Right now, this isn't really all about you, you know, Dawnie."

Dawn said, "That's my _sister_ lying in there."

"Your living sister," Tara said. "My friend. And in case you haven't forgotten, that's my _girlfriend_ -- the woman I loved, the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with -- lying in the Sunnydale Police Station morgue. And yet I'm here _not_ acting like, like it's all about me. I'm here helping Buffy." I looked at her. "I want to be down there, crying. I want to cry my eyes out right now. But, but I can't."

She looked at me. "Yes, you can."

"No. I can't. It's like I was telling Xander earlier. Someone has to be the strong one."

"You're always the strong one."

'"I don't want to have to be," Tara said.

She moved closer to me on the couch. "I'm sorry, Tara. She hugged me. "If you want to stop being strong for a while --"

_Oh, thank you, sweetie. I appreciate the thought, I really do. But --_

_But I'm going to keep having to be, for a while, anyway. You don't know how much I want to cry. To just break down. But Giles is busying himself in minutiae and Xander's pacing and you're frustrated because you think you're useless -- and Angel and Cordelia and Anya just want to go hit things. _

"Thanks," Tara said once she pulled free of the hug. "But I can't stop yet." After a second, "That doesn't mean you can't start."

X X X X X

Warren looked over the "army."

The army, such as it was, consisted of about fifteen demons and vampires -- not one of whom seemed to have the intelligence to spell cat if you spotted them the C and the A. Still ,they were all keen to go after the Slayer. Tactics were going to be something of an issue -- they didn't seem capable of grasping more than, "Crush. Kill. Destroy." But fortunately, that was pretty much all that was called for. And there were a couple of really strong and vicious-looking demons among the group.

"The one thing I want to be clear on," he said, "Is that we go after the Slayer first. I realize that this is a hospital and some of you vampires are going to want to take a taste of some of the helpless people in their beds. All I ask is that you save them for after she's dead. Then, go to town."

"What's the robot for?"

"The Slayer's friends are going to be there. I want them to waste time going after it, not me."

"Not a bad plan," he heard from behind him. "Is this a private invasion or can anyone join?"

Warren turned around.

There was a tall, dark-haired vampire, a short and ugly female demon of some sort, and a gorgeous human-looking woman carrying a sword. She'd have to have been either part demon or a witch to make it past the bartender.

"I'm Angelus," the vampire said, cracking his knuckles. "And I've been wanting revenge on that Slayer for _years_."

"The more the merrier," Warren said.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or settings in this fic. Joss Whedon does.

X X X X X

By the time they got to the street access closest to Red's, it was right around sunset.

Cordelia stuck her head up to find the bar's entrance – Angel, understandably, didn't want to take the risk of exactly where the sun's last rays might be falling – and found it within seconds.

When she came back down the ladder she said to Anya, "This Warren – I'm guessing he knows what you look like? Now, I mean?'"

Anya said, "Yes. He and his group had cameras installed in the Magic Box."

"His group," Angel said. "Are we going to go after any of them?"

"They're already under arrest," Anya said. "They're for a later vengeance."

"Anyway, you might want to take your demon form, then." Anya did so.

"Would he recognize _you_?" Angel asked. "You were in the same high school –"

"I don't think so," Cordelia said. "He was a year ahead and he was as big a nerd as Wi –" she stopped. "He was a really big nerd."

Satisfied that Angel was not in fact going to flame out and die when he reached street level, the three left the sewers and headed over to the bar's entrance.

The bartender looked them over dubiously when they walked in. "You don't look like a demon," he told Cordelia.

"And you don't look suicidal," was Cordelia's response. "I like this form. Means I can walk the streets without having people come after me with pitchforks and torches."

"She's feisty," the bartender said to Angel. "How do you keep her under control?"

"No one can," Angel said, slipping into the Irish brogue Angelus favored. "That's what I like about her."

"Anyway," the bartender said more jovially, apparently satisfied with their demon street cred, "What can I do for you?"

Angel said, "We're looking for a guy named Warren. Last we heard he was headed here."

The bartender looked them over again. "He didn't say he'd gotten anyone else for that army of his. Just that robot double and the gun."

The three looked at each other for a second before Angel said, "We heard about it on the streets that someone was forming an army. We're always in the mood for some quality mayhem."

"I can see why you wouldn't like the Slayer, vampire, but what's she done to you two lovely ladies?"

"She's foiled a couple of wishes of mine," Anya said.

And Cordelia added, "I just don't like her."

The bartender snorted. "Back room. Want any drinks while you're here? I just got in a fresh supply of human blood, vampire – A negative. My other customers say its bouquet is exquisite. I wouldn't know myself."

"I ate before I got here," Angel said. "But thanks for the offer."

Cordelia and Anya also declined the bartender's offer of a drink, then they went to the bar's back room, where they saw a group of sixteen, maybe seventeen vampires and demons – far too many to take on at this point. Facing the demons, with his back to the trio, was a short human who could only have been Warren.

One of the vampires asked, "What's the robot for?"

"The Slayer's friends are going to be there, too," he said. "While they should be no match for all of us, I want them to waste time going after it, not me."

Angel said, "Not a bad plan. Is this a private invasion or can anyone join?"

Turning around, Warren gave them a once over – lingering over Cordelia, much to her disgust. "The more the merrier," he said. "And you are?"

"I'm Angelus. And I've been wanting revenge against that Slayer for _years_."

"And you?" Warren said to Cordelia in a voice he must have imagined as suave.

"Doyle," came Cordelia's answer.

"Odd name for a woman."

"I like it," Cordelia said irritably.

"And you?"

Anya rasped, "My name is unimportant. Are we going to get revenge on the Slayer or not?

"We are," Warren said.

Angel, Cordelia and Anya moved around to join the other demons. Angel and Anya looked them over and separately came to the same conclusion: that these guys might have a lot of muscle, but if brainpower were lungpower they wouldn't have enough to blow a bubble.

Still, that didn't mean they couldn't be dangerous. Especially with seventeen of them plus a guy with a gun, vs. only a few of them. Angel decided he'd have to pick a couple off along the way.

"What abilities do you have? Besides the wish?" Angel quietly asked Anya while Warren continued to give a motivational speech that probably had Vince Lombardi turning in his grave.

"I can teleport – but only myself. I'm about as strong as you are and I'm almost impossible to kill. But I'm not much of a fighter."

"Damn. We need more backup."

"If Spike hadn't disappeared –"

"Let's not bring him into this," Angel said. "I realize I'm not the original wisher but do I have vengeance rights here?"

"You mean, will I grant you a wish?" Angel nodded. "Depends on the wish."

"If I wished for additional help to protect Buffy –"

Anya shook her head. "Not vengeance."

"How about additional help to take vengeance on Warren for Willow's death?"

"That I can do."

"I'd like to make a delayed wish, then."

"Delayed?"

"At the first opportunity, I want you to teleport back to the hospital and warn them. Give them a chance to know what's coming and to get ready for it. Then I want to wish for 'Gunn and the Groosalugg' to come here. We need all the help we can get." Fred and Lorne were out, for different reasons.

"Why not Oz?" Cordelia asked quietly.

"Oz's wolf comes out when he gets angry," Anya said. "I think this would get him angry."

Cordelia said, "True." After a second – "Do you think Wes—"

"Don't finish that sentence, 'Doyle,'" Angel said. "I'd sooner bring back Spike."

"And," Warren was saying, "Since it's after dark, I say we go right now."

A chorus of enthusiastic yeahs came from the crowd; the three of them joined in. "Look for your chance and take it," Angel said as the howling mob stormed out of the bar, the Warren robot at its head, the real Warren to the rear. "We'll take out who we can along the way."

Anya nodded and, the first time the band of demons rounded a corner, teleported back to the hospital.

X X X X X

Mr. Giles was done with the paperwork and Xander had rounded up, apparently, every single snack in the vending machine and was threatening to go to the cafeteria. Dawn seemed somewhat better, but that was relative to the circumstances, of course. _No one handles things like this without it having some effect on them._

_Even me, no matter how it may look from the outside._

_Willow, sweetie: Guide me through this. Give me the strength you never knew you had._

The surgery on Buffy was coming to an end. Even with the bullet out, they had to repair the damage it had done. Luckily, since Buffy had briefly flatlined, there hadn't been any more scares. _Thank the Goddess._

Anya walked out of the nearby women's restroom and went up to the group, motioning everyone together.

"I have bad news," she said. "Warren. He's gotten a lot of demons together and they're all coming here with the intent of killing Buffy before she can get out of bed. Angel and Cordelia are spying on them right now. I'd say we have maybe a half hour before they get here."

"Bloody hell," Mr. Giles said. "Half an hour isn't nearly enough time for Buffy to recover enough for us to be able to move her, never mind fight."

"So we make a stand," Xander said.

"We may have to," Mr. Giles said. "But maybe –" he looked at Dawn.

"No way, no how," Dawn said. "You'll have to knock me out and carry me away from here kicking and screaming. And I will be screaming."

"But even with my help – and Angel and Cordelia's – we're still overmatched."

"Angel brought in help," she said, and said, "Done."

Instantly two people blinked in: A tall, shaven-headed black man, and a heavily muscled, almost impossibly handsome man who looked like he belonged in _Beastmaster_. The latter man was carrying an axe. _Interesting how no one complained about Cordelia's sword. I'm betting no one notices Conan's axe, either._

"Okay," the black man said, "One of you all want to clue me on what the hell I'm doing here?"


	6. Chapter 6

Louvil: Big battle in the _next_ update.

Disclaimer: I wish I had created _Buffy_. Alas, Joss Whedon beat me to it.

X X X X X

"Angel," Tara said. "He, he wished you would come here."

"He couldn't've made a phone call?" the black man grumbled. "And I'm not sure I'm just gonna trust you on that one."

"One of you is Gunn and one of you is the Groosalugg," Anya said.

"I am the Groosalugg," Conan said. "For what purpose have you brought us here?"

Mr. Giles explained what was going on. After he was done, the Groosalugg shook Mr. Giles' hand – _Ouch. From the look on Mr. Giles' face, the Groosalugg must be really strong_ – "I would be pleased to join your fight. Fighting in defense of a fallen comrade is one of the most important things a warrior must do."

Gunn seemed a bit more dubious, even after Anya explained where Angel and Cordelia were. "I'll believe you for the moment," he said. "And I'm always up for kicking some demon ass." Then he looked around. "Anyone here have a phone? I'd like to call my girlfriend to make sure she ain't freaking out by my sudden disappearance."

Xander said, "There's one down the hall," and tossed him a couple of quarters. Gunn nodded and walked in the direction Xander pointed.

Dawn went back to look through the window. "They're done," she said.

"That, that means a doctor should be with us shortly," Tara said.

"I do not know your friend," the Groosalugg said. "But my princess has told me about her many glorious battles. I very much hope she lives to fight another day. And," he said, "I am sorry about the comrade you have lost today." _I appreciated what he was saying. His attitude wasn't pomposity; this was who he genuinely was._

"Your princess?" Xander asked.

"Yes. The fair Cordelia and I are -- what is the term used in this dimension? Ah. Dating."

"Treat her right," Xander said seriously.

"I will," was the Groosalugg's reply.

Tara moved near Anya. "Anya," she said. "I, I wanted to thank you for everything you've done today."

"They're my friends too," Anya said. "And everyone else is helping. And I wanted to do something too."

_Yes, but not everyone else is a vengeance demon with, from all accounts, a cranky boss, Anya._

"But I know you're bending the rules to do it," Tara said. "I'm not a scorned woman and, and Angel certainly isn't."

"That's why I'm being careful to make sure all of your wishes have something to do with vengeance on Warren," Anya said. "And you have to take a vengeance on him now. Or I could get in a lot of trouble with D'Hoffryn."

_Oh, I'm going to take a vengeance on him, alright. It might not be the kind of vengeance you prefer to dish out, but it's going to be a vengeance. It will be worthy of the life of the amazing woman whose life he took -- and the life of the one he nearly ended._

"I plan to," Tara said.

"Good."

Gunn walked back down the hall and said to the Groosalugg, "Fred and Lorne now know where we are." Then he looked at the rest of them. "I'm in -- but I don't appreciate being shanghaied. Next time, I'd like a little warning."

"Blame Angel," Anya said. "He's the one who made the wish that brought you here."

"Yeah, but you're the one who did it." Once again talking to the Groosalugg, he said, "You got any extra weapons?"

"Alas, friend Charles, I do not."

"Terrific." He nodded to everyone else. "You all will excuse me a second, I'm going to see if I can find something stronger than my fists to hit these guys with."

"I have to go, too," Anya said. "I want to see how close they are. When they're less than two minutes away, I'll come back." She walked into the women's room, where Tara assumed she teleported out.

A doctor came down the hallway. "Miss Summers? I'm Dr. Leonards. I have news on your sister's condition."

Dawn went over, followed by Giles, Xander and Tara. The Groosalugg hung back. "I'm Dawn Summers."

Dr. Leonards looked at the rest of them and said, "And you?"

Tara said, "We're family."

_I almost collapsed in relief when the doctor delivered his report. Buffy had lost quite a bit of blood, and the bullet had nicked an artery, but she was going to live. She'd be a while in recovery, though, even with her _

_Thank you, Goddess. And Willow, thank you too, sweetie._

_I love you._

X X X X X

Warren had to stop the march three times, twice because one of the vampires darted off after victims -- the victims got away both times -- and once because he told everyone to turn left and half of them turned right.

"I think I'm smarter than all the rest of these demons put together," Angel muttered to Cordelia.

"I think Harmony is smarter than the rest of these demons put together," Cordelia said.

"At the rate we're going we'll be lucky if we get to the hospital by sunrise."

"You know what I'm thinking?" Cordelia said. "I think whoever set this up stuck Warren with the morons of the Sunnydale underworld."

"I tend to agree," Angel said. "I just wish this gave us something of a tactical advantage, Unfortunately, while Warren is a murdering sociopath, he's _not _stupid. He'll figure it out if I try to get these people lost -- even one at a time."

"If we wait until we get close," Cordelia said, "We might be able to kill a couple of them before anyone notices."

Anya popped in right next to them. "Gunn and the Groosalugg are waiting. Gunn was annoyed by a lot of things. The Groosalugg was eager for combat."

"He's always eager for combat," Angel said. "How's Buffy?"

"The surgery was over and she was still alive when I left," Anya said.

"That's a good sign," Angel said.

"There's still no guarantees," Anya said. Then, after a second, "But, yes. Good sign."

Warren -- and they could tell the difference between him and the robot because the robot was wearing different clothing -- came over and said to Anya, "You can teleport?"

"I can't take anyone with me," Anya said almost automatically.

"This is still good," Warren said. "This is very good. You can … scout ahead. See what the Slayer's condition is. And if they know we're coming." He nodded his head. "Yeah. You go do that."

"Where is she?" Anya said.

"Sunnydale General. The Slayer's probably in the ER."

"I'll let you know what I find." Anya teleported away.

Angel and Cordelia kept pace with the horde and waited for their chance.


	7. Chapter 7

Remember, the italicized thoughts are Tara's.

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created all the settings and characters – except for the Burchells' demons, which are mine.

X X X X X

Tara was startled to see Anya walk out of the women's room only a couple of minutes after she'd gone in. Dr. Leonards had just finished his briefing.

Anya apparently noticed this as she walked up. "How is she?"

"She's going to recover. It's going to take her awhile, but she's going to."

"Good," Anya said. "That's assuming she gets the chance." She looked around. "Would you like to hear something funny?"

_Goddess, Anya, not now. _"Well –"

"Oh, not that kind of funny. My grasp of social graces may not be the best but I know better than to tell jokes at a time like this. Warren saw I could teleport and sent me back here to spy on you."

Actually, that was kind of funny. "So . . ."

"So I'm going to go back there in a few minutes and I want to know what I should tell them."

"Right. Dawnie's waiting to see Buffy in whatever room they put her in and, and Gunn's out trying to find a weapon, but everyone else should be nearby." Within a minute Xander, Mr. Giles and the Groosalugg were there.

"We have two alternatives as I see it," Mr. Giles said. "We can either tell them that the Slayer is weak and unguarded and that her friends, consumed with grief, would make easy targets – or we can tell them that the injury was less severe that it looked and that even now she's ready to arise from her hospital bed and go after the person who did this to her and Willow."

"I'm going for option two," Xander said. "Less chance of innocent people dying."

"You would pass up the chance for combat?" The Groosalugg said.

"In a heartbeat, pal," came Xander's response. "If it meant protecting the people I care about."

The Groosalugg looked like he was going to respond when Tara said, "Anya. You're the, the only one who's seen this band of demons. If they thought Buffy was waiting to kill them, would they run?"

Anya thought for a second. "They all seem stupid. I don't know if they'd have the sense to be afraid of Buffy at full strength. Or maybe they'd just think at 19-1 they could take her."

"I thought you said there were sixteen demons and vampires, not counting Warren," Giles said, frowning."

"Yes, but they don't know that me, Angel, and Cordelia are on your side," Anya said.

Mr. Giles blinked. "Of course." Then, polishing his glasses, he looked at me. "Tara. What do you think?"

_Interesting how they're all looking to me. It's not a position I wanted and not one I'm especially comfortable in. Maybe this is because of my whole "vengeance is mine' attitude. _

_I remember, vaguely, like a dream, Willow taking charge during the period when Glory had stolen my sanity. From the stories I heard later, she did very well. Willow, what would you do?_

_Guide me, sweetie._

She took a deep breath. "I think the second way is probably better. Some, some of them will probably come anyway. Probably not a good idea to give them any, any reason to suspect we're as strong as we are."

"If they think Buffy's at or close to full strength, they'll be ready for a battle," Mr. Giles said. "If some will come anyway, it is probably best they be overconfident."

"It, it's also probably not a good idea to meet them inside the hospital. Anya, do you know where they're coming from?"

"Warren said he knew Buffy was in the ER. So probably there. They're not coming through the sewers."

"That answers that, then," Tara said. "Anya, teleport back to them. When they're only a couple of minutes away, we, we need to go outside and wait for them, so, Anya –"

"I'll come back then." She headed back for the ladies' room.

Mr. Giles said, "I also think you, Xander and Dawn should stay here."

"Giles," Xander protested, "They're coming for Buffy. I'm not going to hide." At the Groosalugg's startled look, he said, "Like I said, pal, whatever it takes to protect my friends."

"May I point out that you are weaponless?"

"Don't see you packing a whole lot either, G-Man."

"You aren't weaponless any more," Gunn said. He was holding a piece of rebar in one hand, and he handed what looked like broken mop handles to Giles and Xander. "They ain't much," he said. "But they should be enough to deal with a pesky vamp or two."

"Good going," Xander said.

"You grow up on the streets you make do with what's available," Gunn said. "I'd love me an axe like Groo over there has, but a rebar'll make a handy dent in most demonic critters' skulls." After a second, "So what's the plan?"

They explained it to him.

Tara, meanwhile, moved back and tried to concentrate. _I don't know if I could cast a spell right now if I tried. And I might need to try, soon._ She did a quick meditation to clear her mind – and it didn't work.

_Of course it didn't work. Just because I'm suppressing the grief doesn't mean it's still not there. So what do I do? It's not a good idea to cast spells out of anger and grief._

_Will I, to protect Buffy?_

_I don't know. And I hope I don't have to find out._

X X X X X

Anya blinked back in and made a beeline for Warren. Angel could overhear what she said. "The Slayer's still in a coma," she said. "Her friends aren't ready for anything. There's a man in his '40s, another one in his '20s who looks like he wouldn't know which end of a knife to grab, a little girl, and a witch of middling power. This group," she said, growling, "is overkill."

"Good, good. Better overkill than underkill," he said. "This way the Slayer's death might look like part of a general rampage. Where is she?"

"In the recovery area," Anya said. "Don't know exactly where."

"Good enough." Then Warren moved to the front of the group, next to his robot duplicate, and called for everyone to stop. He had to dive out of the way of a pair of Burchells' who weren't paying attention. Burchells' were zebra-like demons who varied in personality as much as humans did; there were perfectly harmless ones and ones who wanted to rule the world. "Watch it, quagga-face!" Warren said as he stood back up. "Just found out – the Slayer's in the Emergency Room recovery area and they don't know we're coming. This should be a piece of cake."

It took them about fifteen more minutes to get within sight of the hospital. Anya went to Warren and said, "I'm going to go look one more time," then teleported away. Thirty seconds later she was back. "Things are exactly the same."

Warren grinned widely. "Good."

A couple more minutes' walk and they were approaching the ER doors.

Right then, Xander, Giles, Gunn, and the Groosalugg appeared in front of them.

Warren spun and said to Anya, "You said they weren't ready for us!"

Anya turned back into her human form and Warren gasped. "I lied. Idiot." Angel and Cordelia had already quietly dusted one of the vampires, and were working on a second when Warren noticed what was going on.

He yelled "Attack!"

And battle was joined.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's note: In Angel terms, this would fit somewhere between "Double or Nothing" and "The Price."

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns all except this specific storyline.

X X X X X

Angel and Cordelia killed the second demon almost as Warren commanded the attack, then each got to work on another one.

Xander and Giles went to work double-teaming the nearest vampire, while Gunn attacked the pair of Burchells' demons.

They all stood well out of the way of the Groosalugg, who was, clichéd as it sounds, a living representation of the poetry of violence. He beheaded one of the remaining vampires and kicked one of the demons in the same smooth motion.

The demons and vampires, despite being stupid, quickly realized who the two most dangerous combatants were; four went after the Groosalugg and another three came after Angel.

The Groosalugg grinned. Now this -- this was living! He swung his axe and caught the nearest demon in the chest, then jammed the handle into the vampire sneaking up behind him.

Angel threw one of the demons into a nearby ambulance and staked his vampiric opponent. He was ready to do anything it took to protect the people inside the hospital.

Burchells' didn't have any special abilities apart from an ability to run quickly, but that didn't make them lightweights in a fight. Gunn had just cracked the rebar over the skull of one of his opponents when he felt -- briefly -- a similar blow at the base of his

Xander ducked a roundhouse punch from the vampire he and Giles were fighting, and was ready to stake it with the broken mop handle when he was tackled by a large yellow demon of some sort.

He beat on its head with the mop handle, but that only seemed to piss the creature off. It grabbed him by the neck and started squeezing.

Realizing he wouldn't be able to breathe much longer, Xander took the handle and jammed the sharp end into the demon's eye. The demon yowled and let him go for a second, long enough for Xander to begin to roll clear.

He felt a hand on his leg but, as he kicked behind him with his free leg, the hand grew limp. He rolled over and saw Cordy standing there, pulling her sword out of the demon's throat. She reached down and yanked Xander to his feet.

"Told you I could use this thing," she said.

Xander said, "I believed you the first time. But thanks."

She grinned. "No problem, Zeppoboy." Then she went over to fight one of the demons assaulting Angel.

The Groosalugg was fighting two vampires without his axe, with was buried in the skull of a dead demon; another was lying on the ground screaming. The warrior seemed to be having the time of his life.

Giles was wrestling with his vampire; Xander went over and staked it from behind with the mop handle. As the Watcher got to his feet, they stood and surveyed the battle.

They were now battling eight opponents, but were one down; noticing Gunn's condition, Xander and Giles charged the Burchells' standing over him. The demon seemed angry that Gunn had killed her mate.

This earned her no sympathy from the humans, of course, who immediately started pounding her as hard as they could.

Cordelia was wielding her sword well; she beheaded one of the two remaining vampires and moved over to look for a way to help Angel without taking the chance of stabbing him as well.

Anya had crept around the outskirts of the fight, looking for Warren. When she saw that the man named Gunn was injured, though, she went over, picked him up, and put him on the grass near the hospital entrance, away from the battle.

When she looked up for Warren again, he was gone. No; there he was entering the hospital.

She followed him.

X X X X X

Warren looked around at the fight. "No, no," he said to himself. This was _not_ going according to plan.

The demons were losing the battle. He didn't know where the Conan wannabe with the axe that looked like it could cut battleships in two had come from, or the bald black guy, but they were turning the tide against his little army. The only thing keeping the mêlée going was that the bartender seemed to have stuck him with the stupidest demons and vampires on the planet. Smarter demons would have been running a long time ago.

Still, how the hell could he have known that damn vampire and the babe were on the side of the good guys? Whoever heard of a good vampire? Even Spike helped the good guys only because he was hot for the Slayer.

But Anya – oh, Anya he should have figured out. He'd known she was a vengeance demon again, and how she looked and acted, and how vengeance demons could teleport but not take anyone or anything with them but the clothes they were wearing; why hadn't he put two and two together?

He couldn't even use the gun – too much of a chance of hitting the demons, who were right now the only thing stopping him from getting killed.

And while the bald black guy was down for the count and Xander and that Giles character were having trouble together with one of the zebra demons, Conan and that turncoat vampire were another story entirely – and even the babe with the sword wasn't half-bad. Under other circumstances, he would have been _really _turned on.

But these weren't other circumstances. Warren called the robot over to him and they quickly changed clothes behind the hospital sign, out of view of the combatants. A paramedic wandering by the battle scene came over to see what was going on, but a quick wave of the gun sent him on his way.

Of course, the cops hadn't shown up yet. This was Sunnydale.

Then he sent his robot duplicate into the building and told it to move around randomly – like it was sneaking around and trying not to be seen.

It went over and did as he'd commanded. As he'd suspected, Anya followed it inside the building. He considered moving in behind her and trying to shoot her, but he had no idea if bullets would kill a vengeance demon and no desire to find out the hard way that they didn't.

Instead, Warren waited thirty seconds – the combat was still in full swing, although there were now more defenders than attackers – and he went inside himself. To his relief, Anya and his double were nowhere in sight, and the other fighters were still concentrating on the battle.

He went through the halls to the ER, then, when no one was looking, crept through the doors leading to the recovery area.

No one noticed. No one noticed _anything_ in Sunnydale unless it was happening to them.

Except for the damn Slayer and her friends.

Well, that ended now.

He saw the Slayer's sister looking into a room. He crept up behind her and hit her in the head with the barrel of the gun. Warren had no particularly gripe with her.

Sure enough, it was the Slayer's room. Buffy Summers was lying there, unconscious, with tubes sticking out of both arms. He went over and leaned over the bed.

"Just you and me now, baby," he said, cradling the pistol. "And there's no one who can stop me now."

A blast of wind hit him from behind and knocked him into the wall. He shook his head and looked up.

Tara said, "Wrong."


	9. Chapter 9

Once Anya had teleported back in, the people who were going out to fight had headed to the entrance to the ER within seconds.

Only Xander had stayed behind for a second. "If any of them get past us –"

"They won't hurt Dawn. Or, or Buffy."

Xander smiled. "This'll all be over soon, Tara. Then you can stop being the strong one." He'd hugged her and jogged off after everyone else.

_Just not yet. _

_I have to be able to cast spells if it means protecting Buffy and Dawn. Because if one of the vampires or demons gets in here --_

_I'm not a fighter. I know some spells that could be useful in a fight – I've used them a couple of times – but I've never been a warrior. Not like Buffy, or Xander, or –_

_Or even Willow. I remember she told me how, during the summer between their junior and senior years when Buffy left Sunnydale after – after _something_ horrible happened, she never did tell me exactly what – how she and Xander and Oz and Giles tried to do what Buffy did – "with mixed results," she'd said, laughing, after which Xander'd said, "Translation: We got our butts kicked more often than not. But every once in a while we were the ones who got to deliver the whuppin'."_

_And Willow had fought them. Not with magic. Without any abilities at all, because she had to. It was one of the things I loved – and will always love -- about her._

_I don't know if I ever could have done that. If someone I loved was hurting, I'd do it in a second. But to go out and actively seek the confrontations?_

_That's never been me._

_Still isn't. We didn't look for this big battle with Warren and his 'army' of demonic idiots; they came to us._

_I've never thought the proactive approach Buffy takes has been a bad idea; I've just said it's not the way I personally work._

_Maybe it's time I changed my mind. If we'd done more to look for these people – or even if we'd tried to find Rack – maybe none of this would have happened. Warren would be in jail. Rack would be out of business or dead, and I can't say I'd mourn his passing._

_Maybe Willow would still be alive._

_I know what the saying is. Wish in one hand and spit in the other and see which one fills up first. Unless you've got a vengeance demon around, and even then they'll usually twist your wishes to make something go bad. I'm just glad Anya kind of still likes us, even after Xander left her at the altar._

_  
Still, for the moment I have to stay here and wait for the battle to come to me. Because I'm the only protection Dawnie and Buffy have right now._

_Goddess, give me peace and strength. Goddess, give me peace and strength . . . _

Tara prayed for a while until she felt a kind of serenity overtake her. But this wasn't the serenity she usually felt. This was peace combined with fury. Instinctively, she tried to fight the rage.

_Goddess! What is it I'm feeling?_

_Righteous anger._

_No! Magic born out of anger leads to evil!_

_Or does it? Maybe – maybe anger is a tool. Used badly, it could lead to Warren getting flayed alive. Or beaten to death by Angel. Or to have some horrible vengeance inflicted on him by Anya._

_Or to going dark with rage and black magic._

_Channeled correctly, though, maybe it can be a tool for justice._

_  
Goddess, let me channel this correctly. Let me use my anger as a tool to do what is right – what is right for the world, not just what is right for me._

_Let me be the mistress of my emotions, so that they will not master me._

_Let me use my rage and grief._

Tara had done all of this with her eyes closed, leaning against the wall. When she opened her eyes again, she held out her left hand and said a few words of power.

A spark of witchfire appeared in her palm.

Despite everything, she smiled.

She was ready now.

And, she suddenly realized as she saw Warren going through the doors to the ER recovery area, that she'd better be.

She followed him through the doors as soon as she was certain no one was watching, saw him disappear around a corner –

And then saw Dawnie unconscious, sitting next to the doorway. She bent down and checked on her – Warren had clearly hit her over the head.

_Thank goodness. Her breathing is strong._

Tara opened the door and saw Warren standing near Buffy, holding a pistol -- _the same pistol that killed my Willow. _He said, "Just you and me now, baby. And there's no one who can stop me now."

_Goddess, Willow: Let me focus my energies . . ._

Tara said, "_Raffica_!"

A windblast shot from her hands and slammed Warren into the wall, narrowly missing some of Buffy's IV tubes.

Tara said, "Wrong," as Warren looked up.

"You!" Warren said. "I should've wondered where you were when I didn't see you outside." He raised the gun. "Doesn't matter. I can kill you and then her."

"You're in the middle of a hospital," Tara said. "I, I think even the people of Sunnydale would get a little suspicious about gunfire."

"Do you think I _care_ about that any more, blondie? You and your little friends have already ruined my life and all my plans. All I care about now is getting my revenge." He pointed the gun directly at her.

_Focus the emotion. Focus the energy._

"_Scald_!" Tara said.

As Warren got ready to pull the trigger, the gun suddenly got so hot he couldn't hold it any more. "Ouch!" he yelled, flinging it to the floor. "What did you do, you stupid bitch?"

_I'm not going to take the bait. I'm not going to sink to his level._

"_Freddo_!" she said, picking down to pick up the now cooled gun.

She pointed it at him. "You were talking about revenge," Tara said. "How it's worth anything to you. How, how you obviously don't care about what happens to you next. I wonder if, if you feel that way now."

"You're not going to shoot me," he said confidently. "You don't have it in you."

"Really?" Tara asked. "You murdered the woman I love. While, while going for _revenge, _you shot her. Took the most amazing person who has ever existed away. And you tried to kill one of my best friends. Twice. So ask, ask yourself this, Warren. _How sure are you that I'm not going to pull this trigger_?" He said nothing. "Revenge. It's a very powerful motivator. I've, I've had people all around me today who want nothing more than to have you be painfully dead. Who want to hurt you. To flay you alive. And, and these are people with the power to do it." After a second. "I have the power to do it, Warren. I could pull this trigger. Or I could say any one of a hundred words of power. Some would kill you quickly. Others, others would eat you up from the inside. Slowly. Do you want that?" Again, no answer. "_How sure are you_?"

"You, you don't want to do that," he said. "It would mean you're no better than me. I'm -- I'm a bad person. I see that now."

_No, you don't see that, Warren. You are incapable of seeing that. I wonder. Were you born without a conscience or did you just lose it along the way?_

_It doesn't matter, right now._

"You're lucky. Because you're right. You are a bad person. And I am better than you."

"I knew you didn't have it in you."

"I have it in me," Tara said. "What makes me better than you is the fact that I'm not _doing _it."

"So what? You're just going to hold me here until the police come?"

There was a commotion behind Tara in the hall. Tara took a step away from the door, never taking her eyes off of Warren.

Angel, Xander and Anya came in. "Tara --" Xander said.

"Don't worry," Tara said, handing Xander the pistol, which he quickly pocketed. Angel moved over to check on Buffy, who had remained unconscious throughout the whole thing. "I'm not going to kill him." She looked at Warren. "And neither are any of you. Anya --"

"Yes?"

"I'm ready for my vengeance wish."

Warren had some idea of what vengeance wishes entailed, because he fell to his knees, saying, "Oh God, please, no. Don't, don't let her do it . . ." _Visions of having his toes burned off one by one are no doubt dancing through his head right now. Or being shot, repeatedly, until one of the bullets finally kills him. Or something like that._

_But that's too good for him._

"It's, it's a complicated one. Please wait until I'm done." Anya nodded.

"I wish . . . I wish that Warren Mears had a conscience. I wish he actually understood how horrible everything he's done has been. I wish he knew the pain I felt when I felt the woman I love die in my arms. I wish he knew your pain as well, knowing that Willow is dead -- and that Buffy could have died. And I wish that his life be a long one -- at least another seventy years, for which he will be conscious _every single day _-- and that he think about these things every one of those days as long as he lives." Warren's eyes grew wider as he heard all of this. "I want him to suffer the loss."

Anya smiled grimly. "Done."


	10. Chapter 10

Author's note: This is the next-to-last chapter. Thanks to all the readers and reviewers.

Disclaimer: I am not Joss Whedon. Were I Joss Whedon, I would be richer and auditioning good-looking brunettes to play Wonder Woman, before using Charisma Carpenter, the way he will if he's smart.

X X X X X

The Sunnydale police, as always, showed up a day late and a dollar short; they took note of the "gang war" that had clearly taken place in front of the ER before they, along with a half dozen ER doctors and nurses, came barreling into Buffy's room.

While Xander, Tara, Anya and Angel were quietly hustled out of there – and while both Dawnie and Gunn were being treated for blows to the back of the head – Warren was busy confessing all of his evil deeds to anyone and everyone in earshot: How he'd killed Willow, and tried to kill Buffy, twice. How he'd planned that museum heist back in October. How he'd killed his ex-girlfriend, Katrina Silber, by breaking a bottle over her skull when she was trying to leave him.

Thank all gods and goddesses everywhere they dragged him off before he started confessing to parking violations.

Everyone met once more in the ER waiting area – the Groosalugg and Cordelia had hidden their weapons somewhere, and somehow Xander and Mr. Giles had convinced the warrior to not tell valiant stories of their heroic struggle against the demon army – at least, not loudly enough so that the police could hear them.

Anya, however, couldn't be stopped from telling everyone about the vengeance Tara had taken on Warren.

When she was done, everyone looked at Tara. It was Cordelia who spoke first. "Remind me," she said, "Never to piss you off."

"Consider yourself reminded," Angel said. "You did to him what the gypsies did to me so long ago."

_That's a good analogy, Angel._

"Yes," Tara said. "I, I guess I did. Except there's no escape clause for him. No easy way out back to what it was like when he didn't have a conscience."

"Even if there was that sort of escape clause," Mr. Giles said. "From the way you phrased your wish I doubt he'd be able to take advantage of it."

"Good," Xander said firmly, which is a sentiment everyone else seemed to echo.

"So we need to figure out what to do next," Angel said. "I mean, at some point we're going to need to get back to Los Angeles."

"Maybe the same way we came," Cordelia said. "Anya?"

When she didn't answer, everyone looked around. She was nowhere in sight.

X X X X X

The weather was typical for Arash'maharr: smoky, with a chance of more smoke.

"So, time for my annual performance review?" Anya said more cheerfully than she felt.

"Hardly," D'Hoffryn rumbled. "You have been abusing your power of the wish recently."

"Every single one of them was connected to a vengeance," Anya said hotly.

"Tenuously, at best, except for the last one," D'Hoffryn said. "You twisted and bent the meaning of the word vengeance to help these people."

"Twisted and bent is not broken."

D'Hoffryn harrumphed. "True. Still, you would not have done this for anyone else. Why, Anyanka?"

"Because . . . because I still care about them. Even that idiot who left me at the altar. It might be easier if I didn't, but I do." Then she added. "And I hated that Willow as dead and I couldn't do anything about it."

"Willow," D'Hoffryn said. "Did I ever tell you I once offered her a position as a vengeance demon?"

Anya blinked. "No."

"She turned me down. Pity; she would have made an excellent addition. And now she is dead."

"And vengeance has been taken on her behalf."

D'Hoffryn laughed. "Yes. That last wish. That was . . . an astonishing vengeance, Anyanka. One of the best, I believe, that you have ever done in your thousand years-plus as a vengeance demon. And that is why I am doing this." He leaned forward and took her necklace off.

"I do one of my all-time greatest vengeances and you're stripping me of my powers?"

"No. You did one of you greatest vengeances and for that reason I am letting you live." He shook his head. "It was a mistake bringing you back into the fold, Anyanka. You have spent far too much time among humans to ever be a truly capable vengeance demon again." He held up a hand to forestall her objections. "Yes, your vengeance on Mr. Mears was extraordinary. But you did not do it solely for the sake of a good vengeance – and Ms. MacLay was not a scorned woman. Do not deny this."

Anya couldn't.

"I will always have an affection for you, Anyanka. You have not failed; I failed you. If you wish to converse about old times, please do summon me."

With a gesture, she was back in the ER waiting room.

"What happened?" everyone asked pretty much at once.

"Oh, I just got fired," she said.

X X X X X

Then they all had to decide what to do next. Angel said he was going to stick around, at least until Buffy was better, so someone could keep an eye on Sunnydale for as long as it took Buffy to recover. Cordelia said she was staying with him.

Tara saw Cordelia and the Groosalugg having a quiet conversation not long after she made this announcement; once they were done, the Groosalugg said that he would be going back to Los Angeles "to protect it while its champion was busy elsewhere."

_I suspect the two of them just broke up. If so, it's one of the more amiable breakups I've ever seen._

Dawn hadn't even gotten a concussion, thank goodness; a small cut, but a couple of stitches took care of that. In the meantime, Buffy was moved to a regular hospital room.

The next day, Gunn – whose head wound had also been minor -- and the Groosalugg took a rental car -- which everyone chipped in and paid for – and headed back to Los Angeles. Everyone else was taking turns staying in the hospital, patrolling, and sleeping.

Sometime in the middle of the morning, Mr. Giles came up to Tara and said, gently, "How long has it been since you've slept?"

Tara checked her watch. "27 hours."

"I'm taking you home," he said. "Xander is here, Dawn is here, and everyone else has gotten some sleep in the interim."

"I, I want to be here when –"

"You have gone above and beyond the call of duty, Tara," Mr. Giles said. "You kept everyone together. You made certain Buffy was protected – and you caught Willow's killer and punished him in a way that no court system will ever be able to match. Xander told me that you felt like you had to be the strong one during the crisis." After a second. "The crisis is over."

_He's right. I've been running on autopilot for the last twelve hours._

Tara let Giles take her back to 1630 Revello Drive. She went upstairs to change –

And was caught up by the site of the blood on the floor.

Willow's blood.

_My Willow. Whom I will never see again until I die._

_I will be with you again someday. But right now – right now –_

And finally, finally, Tara was able to let it all out. She fell to their bedroom floor and cried.

X X X X X

When she woke again, she was in her nightgown and it was the middle of the afternoon. Somehow she'd gotten herself dressed and fallen asleep – in Buffy's bed, she noticed.

She had no memory of any of it.

Tara had dreamed, at one point, that she was making love to Willow. Waking up and remembering that it wasn't true and would never be again --

Eventually, she cried herself out.

She called Giles at the hospital. Buffy still wasn't awake, but her condition had been upgraded from critical to serious but stable. She would live.

_Thank the goddess._

Then she went and did the one last thing she had to do.

Though it felt like a violation, looking through Willow's personal phone book, she finally found the number she was looking for.

Hoping it was still accurate, she pressed the buttons on the phone.

"Hey," came the voice at the other end.

"Is this Oz?"

"Yes. And you're not Willow."

"No. This is – this is Tara."

"Her girlfriend," Oz said.

"Yes."

"What happened?" When Tara didn't speak, he said. "Wouldn't have called me if something hadn't happened. What is it?"

"I'm sorry, Oz," Tara said. "She was – she was killed yesterday."

A long period of silence from the other end of the phone; then one word. "How?"

"She was shot. Someone was trying to kill Buffy and the shot went wild. She died in my arms."

"I'm sorry," Oz said, sounding like he meant it. "Tell me everything."

Tara did, from when the Trio had decided to harass Buffy up until the moment Tara called down Anya's vengeance wish.

"So he's punished?"

"He's punished."

"Good." After a second, "You could have called me in earlier."

"My last experience with you and anger?" Tara said. "Not, not of the good."

"You didn't want my wolf to come out." It wasn't a question.

"No."

Oz said, "You couldn't have known. I've improved my control."

"I'm sorry, then."

"Like I said. You couldn't have known. When's the funeral?"

She hadn't even thought about a funeral. "As soon as I can arrange it."

"I'll be there tomorrow. Can you wait?"

"I can. And I will."

X X X X X

The funeral was held two days later. Oz had made it. Everyone was graveside except Angel. Willow's parents had been a little miffed that their daughter hadn't been buried in the traditional Jewish fashion, but their grief was genuine, despite their lack of real insight into who their daughter was.

As the Wiccan services ended, everyone started drifting away until only Tara and Xander stood there looking at the stone.

WILLOW ROSENBERG

1981-2002  
HER LIFE WAS MAGICAL


	11. Chapter 11

This is the epilogue. Call it "Excerpts from season 7."

Author's note: I'm still not Joss Whedon. He created _Buffy_ and _Angel_. I reuse and alter some of the dialogue from some of the season 7 episodes.

X X X X X

Buffy woke up two days later; they slowly broke what had happened to her. She was another month in the hospital, and wasn't fully up for Slaying for a month after that.

Giles stayed, to help nurse his former Slayer back to health.

Angel and Cordelia remained in Sunnydale until Giles determined that Buffy was ready, going to Los Angeles only when Cordelia's visions specifically prompted them to. About a week or so in, while Buffy was still in the hospital, Cordelia was visited by a demon named Skip, who told her it was her turn to ascend to a higher plane.

Cordelia turned him down.

When Skip told her she couldn't turn him down, Cordelia ended up fighting him . . . and winning. Her visions remained pain-free, and slowly she began to figure out how to use her demonic abilities.

The first time she mastered full control of what Xander came to call her lightshow, she killed every single evil-intentioned demon in Red's. (This left behind, essentially, her, Angel, and a demon with skin like a shiatsu named Clem.) Between the two of them, and with Tara's and Giles' help, they slowly worked their way through every major demonic and vampiric power left in Sunnydale. The smart ones headed to higher ground. By the time Buffy was ready to do Slaying again, the demonic population of Sunnydale had been reduced to Clem, a handful of other non-evil demons, and a few who had hidden themselves really, really well.

From his vantage point in Cleveland, Rack, who had been paying careful attention to the events in Sunnydale, said sadly, "I told the young man something like this would happen . . ." and counted his blessings.

Cordelia headed back to LA with Angel, who had resigned him to the fact that his son was never coming back. The Groosalugg, though, had decided to stay around and battle beside Angel investigations in whatever battles were to come.

Tara and her friends, of course, faced different battles entirely.

**Lessons**

The First Evil spoke in the guise of the Master to a quivering and nearly insane Spike.

" . . . you'll learn you're a pathetic schmuck," it said, "If it hasn't sunk in already." Then it changed.

"Spike, Spike," Willow said. "That's your problem. You're trying to do the right thing. I tried to do the right thing and --" she looked down at the bullet wound on her chest -- "Hey, look at that. Bullet wound through the chest! It's not about right, anyway. Or wrong, either."

The voice changed again and Spike looked up and saw Buffy say, "It's about power."

**Conversations with Dead People**

As Tara sat in the Magic Box, looking through a spell book and trying to determine what "From beneath you, it devours," meant, she heard a voice from across the table.

"Hey, baby," it said.

Tara looked up and saw Willow. "Hi." _I must have fallen asleep again. _"It's good to see you, baby, really, it is, but I'd, I'd really prefer to save my dreaming about you for when I'm in bed."

"This isn't a dream. And you're not dead. I miss you."

"I miss you, too," Tara said. "So you're really here?" She reached forward to touch Willow -- and her hand passed right through. "No. Of course not."

"I'm still under your spell, Tara. And that's why I've come back. You're not strong enough."

"Not strong enough for what?"

"Not strong enough to handle what's going to come."

_This isn't Willow. She'd never tell me that. Let me read her aura . . . Holy goddess._

"You're not Willow."

"I'm not?" She looked around. "I look like her."

"You look like her, but you're not her. Your aura -- it's pure evil. The purest I've ever seen. Who are you?"

"Willow" said, "Darn. And I was hoping this would last longer."

"From beneath you, it devours."

"From beneath you, _I_ devour." "Willow" changed into a floating ball of flesh, which disappeared.

**Never Leave Me**

As Tara shut Dawnie's door, Buffy came storming upstairs. "Shhh," Tara said. "She just fell asleep."

"What the hell happened?"

"I, I think the thing that's supposed to devour us from beneath showed up tonight. It came to Dawn and me. To Dawn, it looked like Joyce. To me, it looked like Willow. And, and it acted like her too. And the same with Joyce." Tara shook her head. "I only figured out what it was because I read its aura. Buffy, this thing is evil. Pure evil."

Buffy said. "Oh my God. It's back."

"Who's back?"

"The First."

**Interlude 1: Kennedy**

"Thanks for letting me bunk here," the potential said.

"No problem," Tara said. "We're, we're going to have to find room for a lot more of you."

"I'll try not to bite." Kennedy grinned wickedly.

"Don't."

"I just said I wouldn't."

Tara shook her head. "No. I, I mean, don't flirt. I'm not -- I'm not ready. I may never be. And, and I don't think you're my type. No offense."

"Just because I'm not your type doesn't mean --"

"Yes," Tara said. "It does. Please. I'm willing to be friends, but --"

Kennedy said, "No benefits?"

"No."

She lay down on the bed. "Ah well. Honestly, you're not my type either. But you're the only one around here who goes my way and isn't still in high school. But if I have to be chaste for a while to save the world, that's the way it's gotta be." As Tara lay down, Kennedy shook her hand. "Kennedy. Nice to meet you."

"Tara."

**Interlude 2: At the offices of Wolfram & Hart, LA Branch**

Angel and Cordelia stood in the lobby; the vampire and his ally/lover staunchly refused to go any further into the building.

"So what did you want, Lilah?" Angel asked.

"So suspicious, Angel," the attorney said. "And here we are doing you a favor. Actually, we're doing your ex-girlfriend a favor."

"The day you do me a favor is the day I set myself on fire?"

Lilah laughed. "Can we get that in writing?" Then, "Never mind." She handed over an envelope. "There's something in there she's going to need. Go ahead, open it."

Cordelia ripped it from Angel's hands and, thrusting it back in Lilah's general direction, said, "You open it."

Lila shrugged. "Whatever," and ripped the envelope open, dumping out an amulet. "If your ex is going to defeat the enemy she's facing, she's going to need this. It is meant to be worn by a champion."

Cordelia took the amulet. When she didn't burst into flames or try to stab Angel, Angel said, "So. Why? First you spring Faith and send her down there, now this? What's in it for you?"

"Can't we just want to do the right thing?" Lilah said. At Angel's steady gaze, she said, "Alright. Look. There's an evil entity down there who wants to take over the world." After a second, "So do we."

"Ah. The enemy of my enemy --"

"Is still my enemy," Lilah said. "Just call it a cease-fire until everything in Sunnydale goes down."

"We're going to research this first," Angel said.

"Go right ahead. I'd say you have, oh, 44, 45 hours or so."

Angel and Cordelia ran out of the building.

**Chosen**

After they heard Buffy's plan, Giles said, "I think it's bloody brilliant."

"You mean that?" Buffy said.

"If you want my opinion."

"I really do."

Tara said, "There may be one problem. I love the idea, Buffy, I do. But it's going to take a lot of magic. Maybe more than I have. E-even with the Scythe." She said. "I'm, I'm not Willow or Amy Madison."

_I never had their power sources. Not just Rack -- but that ability to tap into something deeper. Even my righteous anger runs out too soon._

"Can you do it?" Buffy asked.

"The most I can do is say that I'll try," Tara said. "I, I just can't make any guarantees."

Buffy looked at Giles. "I'm feeling a lot less sanguine about this."

"It's all we have, Buffy," Giles said. "I'll talk to Tara for a moment." Everyone else left the room. "You're lying," he told Tara.

"I am," Tara said. "I can do it. But I'll probably have to use all of my own energy to do it."

"The spell will kill you."

"Probably. And, and if Buffy knew that, she wouldn't let me do it." She looked Giles squarely in the eye. "Don't tell her."

"I shan't."

X X X X X

The one thing Giles did to was quietly pull Anya aside. "You have the most experience working with magic of anyone here," he said. "Once Tara is done the spell, Kennedy will get the Scythe downstairs to Buffy. You get Tara outside and into the bus. No matter what her condition is."

"What about guarding the upstairs?"

"Rona and Chao-Ahn are injured. They will handle one of the areas." He smiled. "And it isn't as though the Turok-Han can get anywhere anyway. It will, after all, be daylight."

X X X X X

The spell was laid out. Anya was sitting across from Tara, and Kennedy was standing at the door. "You can do it, blondie," she said.

Tara smiled back. She and "the brat" had become friends of a sort over the intervening months. Kennedy had never actually stopped flirting with her, but it had all been friendly once Tara had laid down the law. And they'd had a few things in common. Some of the same taste in music. And they both liked to read mysteries.

_I wasn't ready. And if I had been, it wouldn't have been Kennedy, anyway. She was okay with something casual. That's not who I am._

_Anyway, right now it's all moot._

She began to chant the spell.

_Goddess. Willow. Give me the strength I need to do this one final thing. Help me save the world._

_Willow, give me the strength. Willow, give me the strength. Willow, my love, give me the strength . . ._

She began to feel power flow through her, and then she and the scythe began radiating a bright light.

_Thank you. Thank you. Willow, baby, I'll be with you soon . . ._

She held on as long as she could. The last thing she remembered was someone taking the Scythe from her hands.

X X X X X

Tara blinked and opened her eyes to a bright light. "Willow?"

"Look at her," a familiar voice said, "She thinks she's dead."

"I'm not dead."

"No, you're not," Anya said. "And you should be thanking me." Then she yelled. "Everyone. She's awake!"

"Did it work?" Tara said.

"Oh yeah. First Evil? Toast. So's Spike, Amanda, Chao-Ahn and Sunnydale. But we won. And you did it."

"How long have I been out?"

"About three days."

Buffy came up to the bed. "Why didn't you say that the spell could have killed you?"

"You wouldn't have let me do it."

"Damn right I wouldn't have," Buffy said. Then she leaned down and kissed Tara's forehead. "So I'm glad you didn't tell me. Don't ever do that again."

"The goddess let me do it," Tara said.

"Someone did," Buffy said. "You haven't seen yourself recently, have you?"

From somewhere, Buffy got a mirror. Tara looked at herself in it and gasped.

Her face looked haggard and worn out, but that was to be expected after all she'd gone through.

What she hadn't expected was the color of her hair.

It was red.


End file.
